Mandalore the Heretic
by William War
Summary: AU. When Revan was excommunicated the Jedi set in motion a chain of events that would lead the Galaxy to war. 10 years later, can the Republic hope to stop the Mandalorians, and if not, then who can?
1. Chapter 1

Prologue: Excommunication

Revan gradually marched toward his ship, doing his best to cover his body with his robes in a futile attempt to remain anonymous, even though the entire Jedi Enclave was watching him leave. He looked around, the mask he wore over his face covering his shame and scars, and realized what he had to do. He pulled the hood of his robes over his head and silently vowed to have his revenge upon the Jedi Order for his excommunication. He slowly stepped up the ramp to his ship, thinking only of his next step. He knew that if he were to be able to have his revenge, he needed an army… that meant he needed to head to his ancestral home: Mandalore.

Chapter One: Mandalore in Battle

Ten years passed since the Jedi had abandoned Revan, and in those ten years he fought and killed his way to the top of Mandalorian society. He had used his overwhelming Force powers, along with lessons he learned from several mentors and teachers, to become a master in melee combat. He began to adorn himself in armor as soon as he could; stripping parts from his most honorable kills, and eventually acquired his own Mandalorian Crusader armor. He began to modify his armor early on, keeping just enough to provide more than ample protection while not limiting his Force powers.

He quickly grew to appreciate the Mandametal that his, and every other Mandalorian's armor was comprised of for its durability, resistance to the Force and how it seemingly absorbed damage like a sponge. These attributes soon proved crucial when Revan found himself fighting a Dark Jedi whose goal was to make sure that the Mandalorians never achieved galactic power. At the end of the duel, the Dark Jedi was maimed, having had both of his arms lopped off by Revan, before being executed with a single shot from a Mandalorian Heavy Pistol. His lightsaber was the second one in the collection that Revan soon would become famous for.

It wasn't long before Revan was well renown amongst the Mandalorian clans, and when he called for the clans to unite against the ultimate enemies, the Republic and the Jedi Order, they came in hordes.

At the beginning of the war, he sent out raiding parties into the galaxy, gathering intelligence on his enemies while building up his forces and preparing for the oncoming onslaught. Finally, on the tenth anniversary of his excommunication from the Jedi Order, he launched a surprise attack upon the galaxy. It didn't take long for entire systems to fall. He routinely ordered executions of Republic soldiers, politicians, and anyone whom he deemed to be a potential hindrance to his conquest. Races were subjugated, planets enslaved, and conscripts drawn up to fight as foot soldiers for the crusaders, whom themselves were the hammer of the onslaught.

With every conquest, he ordered conscription quotas and punished those planets that disobeyed, often putting major cities to the sword, setting an example for all peoples of the galaxy. Before long, planets and entire systems began to surrender without a fight.

All the while, Revan longed for the Jedi to join the war; he craved the opportunity to lay waste to the fools. Eventually, his wish came to fruition, in part, and a group of "renegade" Jedi knights and padawans joined the Republic in an attempt to stop the bloodshed. Revan met the Jedi personally wherever he could, and eventually found himself against an old friend, and leader of the renegades, Malak.

The battle was to be fought in a remote Jedi enclave on the planet Cheron, amidst a Mandalorian invasion of its capital city, Salome.

Revan and twenty men of his personal guard, the best swordfighters in Mandalorian society, stormed the enclave, only to be immediately met by the Jedi. Revan relished in the combat. As he led the charge into the building he drew his blue lightsaber and engaged in personal combat with four Jedi at once.

He skillfully blocked and evaded every one of their attacks and felt little to no effect when they attempted to use the Force on him, the Jedi not knowing the secret to Mandametal. It wasn't long before the four Jedi were dead at his feet, their lightsabers clipped to Revan's belt.

He advanced through the enclave, killing any who stood in his way, adding their blades to his collection, before finally coming to the council chambers. He could sense a single powerful Jedi in the room before him and ordered his guards to wait for him outside of the chambers.

Revan sighed, calmed himself and used a powerful Force push to shatter the large wooden doors of the council chambers. Advancing through the dust and debris, he readied himself, knowing that his childhood friend was skillful with a lightsaber and had won many duels in his time.

"So, Revan," Said a thundering voice from ten feet in front of the Mandalorian, "It seems we meet again… I must be honest I was shocked when the scouts told me it was you, I can't tell the council as they demand that I tell them nothing, even if I did they wouldn't believe me… We all thought you to be dead."

Revan grunted, sending a wave of Force energy to all sides, clearing the dust and debris, allowing him to clearly see his old friend. He had to look up at the massive Jedi, silently wondering when he became so tall. Malak still had the same bald head and pale skin that Revan remembered, but he was hulking and nearly seven feet tall.

"The last time I saw you, you were being kicked out of the enclave at Dantooine… after you killed one of the masters in a rage, that is." Malak sighed, not wanting to admit that he didn't wish to kill his old friend. "I beg of you… please, give up now so that this senseless bloodshed may end…"

Revan listened to Malak's raspy, rumbling voice, and shook his head, responding with a voice dripping with contempt. "I will not surrender to you or anyone else… I won't quit until your precious order is but a fading memory and your council is dead at my feet!"

Meanwhile Malak, for the first time, took notice of his friend's armor. His helmet was modeled after the mask he was often seen wearing during his excommunication, his armor a dull black with faded cobalt trim. His chest plate was battle scarred, his shoulder plates had heraldry embossed upon them, his forearms had several mechanisms built into the armor, his gauntlets had spike like studs on the knuckles and the backs of the hands, the armor not covering his underside of his hands allowing for him to deal out punishing Force attacks, his lower half was just as heavily armored, while the thing that stuck out to him the most was his belt. Upon his belt hung two Mandalorian Heavy Pistols in their holsters, but the thing that shocked him the most was the multiple lightsabers hanging all around his waist.

"You've killed too many of our… of my brethren today… I'm sorry, my old friend, but since you won't surrender and you are determined to destroy the order… I must destroy you." Malak drew his lightsaber, the yellow blade shimmering some.

"I guess I'll just add your blade to my collection then!" Revan charged directly at Malak, swinging his blade downward in a diagonal motion from over the top of his head.

Malak blocked the blow and quickly counter attacked, slicing from the left, then the right, and then the top. No matter where he should try and strike he was stopped in his tracks.

Revan waited, allowing Malak to press the attack, backing away from the far wall of the council chambers as he did so. Then, as Malak raised his blade over his head, Revan used the Force to lob his foe across the room. Malak hit the far wall with a loud crash, feeling several of his ribs break, and was momentarily stunned. Using this time to his advantage, Revan sprinted at Malak, throwing his lightsaber with his left hand while drawing one of his pistols with his right.

Malak saw the lightsaber and deflected it with his own, expecting to have some breathing time, but receiving instead, a blast to the chest.

Revan caught his lightsaber, holstering his pistol and switching his blade to his right hand as he stopped in front of Malak.

The Jedi was in the utmost pain, dropping his blade and falling to his knees, his hands gripping his chest.

"Good-bye, old friend… But feel joy, for your Jedi brethren will join you in death soon enough." Revan raised his blade and brought it down upon the unarmed Jedi, cutting through the right side of his collar bone to his left hip, rending him lifeless.

As Malak's corpse hit the ground Revan used the Force to pick up his old friend's lightsaber, while putting his away, before adding it to his collection and walking out of the room.

The invasion of Cheron went flawlessly, the Mandalorians lost few men and gained legions for the conscript army. The surviving Republic soldiers were, for once, allowed to live. Revan ordered the commanding officer to take the corpses of the fallen Jedi, twenty-seven through the entire battle, back to the closest enclave or temple. Malak and his followers were taken to Dantooine, their lightsabers taken trophy by the Mandalorians who killed them, eleven of them now belonged to Revan, or as he was now known, Mandalore the Heretic.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: War Is The Answer

Mandalore waited three weeks before he was assured of the Jedi Council's answer to his declaration of war, the delivery of fallen Jedi to the Dantooine Enclave. Within that week he began to move from the Hades System to the Dantooine System, knowing that if he were to threaten the Dantooine Jedi Enclave then the order would have no choice but to fight back.

Standing on the bridge of his flagship, _The Ravager_, Mandalore watched as his fleet decimated a task Force of Republic Ships, occasionally ordering his communications officers to relay messages ordering his fleet to rearrange. He smirked under his helmet; the battle was going exceedingly well. He had drawn the Republic in by crippling a group of refugee ships before supposedly slipping away. In reality, he had several sensors set up by his ships that would alert him when the fleet arrived so that his fleet could ambush the Republic ships at their weakest moment: caring for the weak.

It was a great tactical success, and almost immediately after arrival, his fleet began to slaughter everything, civilian craft and warship alike. He knew that at times civilians needed to die in order for a power to be triumphant in war, and he also knew that the Republic didn't feel the same way, giving him an advantage.

He watched silently as the Republic ships scattered and his victorious ships regrouped and continued their journey toward Dantooine. As soon as he was satisfied with the carnage, he turned and began to make his way to his quarters, the sound of his boots clanging on the metal floor.

"Soon…" Mandalore muttered, "The real war will begin…"

Meanwhile, the Jedi Council on Dantooine was convening, discussing the Coruscant Council's decision to back the Republic in the war against the Mandalorians.

Upon the arrival of the bodies of the fallen Jedi a great anxiety fell upon the entirety of the Jedi Order, all saw war was coming, but only a few realized the menace that Mandalore would become.

As before, there were those who still promoted peace, but even they realized that the only way that negotiations would be possible was if Mandalore was killed or captured.

Immediately after the council meeting ended, plans for a strike team were being drawn up. One of the few volunteers for the mission was a young padawan named Bastila Shan, a young woman brimming with self-confidence, power, and in possession of both incredible beauty and a powerful Force ability called 'Battle Meditation' that could potentially allow for the Mandalorians to finally be beaten.

Bastila sat in her chambers, meditating on the Force, her clothing fitting her figure perfectly. Her chestnut hair draped down to her shoulders, her light blue eyes remained closed as she levitated slightly, her pale skin a contrast to her hair. Despite her being a picture of peace, something was wrong.

As she meditated she received a vision. She saw herself and several other Jedi facing off against a dark figure emanating pure power. She saw the Jedi be struck down and herself be disarmed and beaten by the single combatant. After that she felt a sense of dread and oppression, as if something were looming over her every thought, and then she saw the face of a man most likely in his mid twenties.

The face was masculine; several battle scars were engraved into it, and it seemed to dominate her thoughts. His eyes were nonexistent, shrouded in shadow and his hair black as the darkest night. And the worst part of the vision was the unending flood of sensations that she was unable to describe, a mixture of ecstasy and fear, freedom and guilt.

Her eyes shot open and she fell to the ground, landing with a thump.

"What did it mean?" she whispered as she slowly stood. "Wait a moment… it can't be…"

She knew the face to be that of a Jedi she once knew, just a few years older than her, who she had trained with when she was younger. She remembered his name to be Revan, an orphan boy who had been rescued by Jedi responding to a distress signal from a crashed ship on Dantooine. She remembered vividly how he was always a magnificent duelist with the lightsaber and a powerful Force user.

The thing she remembered most fondly, however, was how they had trained together, lived together, and became very close. They soon formed a bond that was seemingly unbreakable and, even though the council frowned upon the emotional attachment, began to fall in love. However, when Revan turned sixteen, he started to show his Mandalorian heritage in training. He became angry, prideful, and power hungry. His tactical mind began to develop, and he became a master strategist, often drawing his opponent in and giving them the impression that they have the advantage, before striking his opponent down in a relentless onslaught.

She had seen Revan do this in games, sparring, bartering and daily life, but one day he took it too far.

She remembered vividly when she went out into the wilderness with Revan and their master at the time, Master Kreia. The resulting duel ended with Revan's first kill. His Mandalorian roots came in every respect into view as he mercilessly attacked Kreia before Bastila's eyes, executing her as she begged for her life.

Bastila sat down on her bed, pulling her double-bladed lightsaber off of her belt and holding it limply. She knew now that she would have to try to kill her last true friend, just as she now knew Malak had, and she recognized deep inside of her that Revan wouldn't be taken alive and for some reason she was bothered by that greatly.

She sighed and thought back, recalling the day that Revan was excommunicated from the Order, how she wept as he turned his back on her and everyone they had grown up around. She saw how enraged Revan was, how she could sense everything in him screaming at once, ordering him to slaughter everyone in the enclave, and how he assuredly began to come up with a plan for revenge immediately.

Bastila got up, clipping her lightsaber back onto her belt and walking out of her room, heading for the council chambers for her mission orders, a part of her not wanting to move for an unknown reason.

Mandalore entered his personal quarters and sighed softly as the blast doors closed behind him. Looking around, he took in the militaristic feel, the weapons and armor adorning the walls, along with his various trophy collections, including nearly two-dozen lightsabers. Walking over to the lightsabers, he reached out with the Force, using it to learn about every Jedi or Dark Jedi that had wielded the weapons at the time of their deaths.

He smirked, feeling no regret, but pride at his many victories. Striding over to his footlocker, he began to take off his armor. Kneeling in front of his locker, he began to ritualistically place his armor and weapons neatly into their proper positions within. He then picked up a small picture, crinkled by time and wear.

The picture was from his time as a Jedi; taken on Dantooine it showed his friends Malak, Bastila, and himself. He shook his head, his mind going back to better times, friendships, training sessions, nights in the wilderness and memories worth more than any material item. He felt a pang of guilt for his actions, his best friend, from as far back as he could remember, had died by his hand.

"Malak… My friend, I apologize, but this is war, and you were my enemy. I don't know how I will be able to kill Bastila, I know she's the one they will send after me." He looked at the picture, his thumb moving over Bastila's face, wishing he could see her on less violent terms, "And I know I will have to kill her… but I am uncertain if I can bring myself to strike her down when the time comes…"

He set the picture down and closed the footlocker, standing, and walking over to his closet. He threw on a stately robe and lay on his bed, thinking of his old friends. He knew that he had to kill Bastila, but there was a part of him that still thought fondly of her. Mandalore took off his mask, the same mask he wore when not in battle, the same mask he wore in shame when the Jedi exiled him, and set it aside, wondering how he would be able to kill the woman he once loved. Then it came to him: he wouldn't have to.


End file.
